


in a garden on a summer evening

by AwayLaughing



Series: the unseen [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Character Study, Family Fluff, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7824685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurenai and her mother eek out a quiet moment during the 3rd war and try not to dwell on reality too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in a garden on a summer evening

Kurenai loved her mother's gardens more than any other place in the world. Once her mother would have laughed and told her she hadn't seen enough of the world to claim that, but Kurenai was a genin now and had just returned from the Daimyō's palace itself. The gardens there had been quite amazing at first, but a closer look had left Kurenai feeling like they were a bit soulless. Too planned, all the planets kept in pristine condition, perfect little parodies of the world around them.

 

Not her mother’s gardens. Her mother let them reflect the world around it in true, or so it seemed to Kurenai. True, weeds were not to be tolerated but the occasional flaw was used just to highlight the natural beauty of everything else.

 

“Kurenai-chan,” her mother said, jerking her out of contemplation, “would you fetch us some tea? We can enjoy it out here.”

 

“Yes mama,” she said, hurrying inside. The house was still cool, the sun not having come up very high yet, and silent. Papa had left for the front, shortly before her mission which meant mama had been alone this past week. The tea was all ready to be put together, the water just needed to be heated. It rather made Kurenai feel like she was a little girl again, her mother helping her do chores in small ways. She did not need her hand held, she thought, setting the kettle on the stove, even if it did save time.

 

By the time she had everything poured and mixed, her mother was seated at the patio. “Very prompt, Kurenai-chan,” mama said and Kurenai had to grin.

 

“Well there was hardly anything to do, mama,” she said, and her mother gave her a sheepish smile. Everyone said she looked very much like mama, actually, but Kurenai didn't think so. There was a sweetness and kindness to mama's smiles Kurenai couldn't match, and she had her father's red eyes, not her mother's jewel-like green ones. Mama also had dimples, which Kurenai envied even though she should not.

 

“Ah do forgive me Kurenai-chan,” she said, taking up her tea cup. It was one Kurenai had made herself, when she was younger, as a birthday gift for her mother. It was clumsily painted and hardly beautiful, but mama always used it except for the most formal of occasions. “I have been lonely, and had no one on which to dote. And your grandmother had company, so I've had much reason to refine my tea making skills.”

 

“Oh no,” Kurenai said, eyes widening despite herself. Grandmama was a tyrant, for all Kurenai loved her, and she was especially bad about tea preparations. So much so, in fact, that she wouldn't start personally training anyone in the clan in genjutsu until they could prepare and serve tea to her standards.

 

“Oh yes,” her mother said, “but I survived, obviously. I think she was just trying to keep me busy. I was pouting a bit about not being able to do much for you, or your father or siblings.”

 

“Mama,” Kurenai said, only for her mother to hold up her hand.

 

“It's nothing serious, love,” she said, “I suppose I just wasn't willing to face they fact you're really all grown up and ready to go to war.”

 

“Not that ready,” Kurenai admitted. “On the way to the capital we had to go into sudden hiding _twice_ and there aren't even any enemies that deep in the country.”

 

“There are always people willing to sell out their country or village,” mama said, “and eyes are everywhere. Chances are they didn't want anyone knowing how much is being transported between Konoha and the Capital.”

 

Kurenai nodded, this had been explained still, but it was, all the same well and truly out of the fighting. She could never tell mama of all people she wanted to join the fight though, not after everything. Her mother must have known, though, because she smiled, soft and understanding.

 

“Your time will come, Kurenai-chan,” she said, “don't wish these easier days away my love.”

 

“I know mama, I just want to help,” she said and her mother nodded.

 

“I know the feeling,” she said and Kurenai took a sip of her tea.

 

“Mama,” she said, slowly, “I don't mean to pry but...” she trailed off. It was never polite to pry into matters like this, she knew, veteran shinobi did not usually enjoy being put out of work and for many it was a sore spot. Papa had long ago impressed upon his children that it was a painful topic for mama but Kurenai couldn't help but wonder. “If you still could, would you fight?”

 

Mama's face, at least, was not hurt or anything bad, just contemplative. “Yes,” she said finally, “I would. It took me a long time to deal with the fact that though the rest of my body was still able to do the work, my lungs are not,” she smiled. “I always worried about things like my hands and my knees, knowing injuries to those would end my career. I took for granted that my lungs would be safe.”

 

Kurenai nodded, looking down. She had never known her mother as a shinobi, gas from the 2nd war had left her lungs a mess. She couldn't run, and every illness was a horror story that ended in a hospital visit. If it was too cold, mama couldn't breath, too humid and it was the same issue. More than once papa had joked about moving to Wind Country when he retired, but those had ended when Wind failed to act according to the terms of their treaty.

 

“Your garden is the best, at least,” she said and her mother smiled.

 

“Weren't you just at the Daimyō's palace?”

 

“Yours are better,” Kurenai said. “More alive, I think.”

 

“All gardens are alive,” mama said and Kurenai shook her head.

 

“Not like yours,” she said.

 

“Well,” mama said, “I suppose I should learn to take a compliment, hm?”

 

“Yes you should mama,” Kurenai said, earning a laugh, and they lapsed into silence. By now the sun was up higher, and Kurenai sipped her tea, watching the way it filtered through the maple leaves and danced across the water features mama had spent pain staking years making sustainable and natural looking. “Mama?” she asked once she had only a sip or two left, “when are Akane-chan and Yuri-chan due home?”

 

“Tomorrow evening,” mama said, “and we should get correspondence from the front within the week.”

 

“I might not be here in a week,” Kurenai said.

 

“Naturally, we cannot completely bet on your schedule, but we can hope and adapt as needed, no?”

 

“Right, mama.” Silence settled over them, and Kurenai found herself matching her breath to the gentle rustle of the leaves ahead. Mama’s familiar hazel-green eyes were fixed somewhere on the horizon, and everything was incredibly peaceful. Only once the tea was done did either speak, mama’s face creasing with glee.

 

“Kurenai-chan, let’s get something spicy tonight, since it’s just you and I.”

 

“Oooh,” Kurenai said, “and ice cream?”

 

Mama laughed. “Maybe,” she said, which meant yes because mama _loved_ ice cream. “Let’s clean up, first.”

 

"We can eat out here tonight, right?" Kurenai asked. Her mother posed as if actually thinking about saying no.

 

"Well I suppose," she said, "only if you help me garden tomorrow morning."

 

"Of course mama," Kurenai said, "always." How could anyone not want to spend the early morning in calm beauty? She wanted to ask, instead she just picked up her tray and walked toward the house. In the slight evening breeze, the jasmin and lilac drifted past her and she smiled. No matter what came, she would have mama and the gardens.


End file.
